


up all night

by river_of_words



Series: you're trying to conceal a euphonium [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:34:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25952272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/river_of_words/pseuds/river_of_words
Summary: The Doctor is feeling sad and lonely one night with no one to talk to. The Tardis takes her to some old friends.Set somewhere during series 11.
Relationships: The Doctor & Jenny Flint, The Doctor & Madame Vastra, Thirteenth Doctor & Jenny Flint, Thirteenth Doctor & Madame Vastra
Series: you're trying to conceal a euphonium [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885408
Comments: 10
Kudos: 52





	up all night

The Tardis understood a lot of things. A lot of things about the Doctor, about the way she saw the universe, that no human ever would. But likewise, the Tardis didn’t understand a lot of the more humany-wumany things about the Doctor. Like grief, and guilt, and regret. For those things she always tried to push the Doctor in the direction of whatever human they were currently travelling with. And if there weren’t any, she would _find_ the Doctor some humans to travel with.

 _the handsome one and the sandwich one talk about it_ , the Tardis was saying. _they are sad. they talk about grandmother._

“It’s different.”

_granddaughter died, and then grandmother died. you’re sad. you have to talk to a human._

“Grace wasn’t my grandmother,” the Doctor said, and then, realising the implication she'd made, “And Bill wasn’t my granddaughter!”

* * *

Funny the things that sneak up on you at night. Or, in the nine to ten hour period between adventures when the gang was busy going to bed and sleeping and getting out of bed again. It was all very inefficient, the Doctor thought. And so boring!

She made sure they kept busy, kept moving, kept her mind occupied, and she succeeded most of the time. But then night came, and the hush that fell over the Tardis became oppressive, and no matter what she did she couldn’t figure out how to turn the lights back to orange.

Sometimes she wandered through the Tardis, opening doors to see how many rooms she could find that she’d forgotten existed. It was a bit Russian roulette-y. Any door was capable of opening to a great distraction – like her Machine That Goes Ding, which she found a couple of weeks ago and spent the whole night updating so that now it could make a whole collection of noises. She learnt how to play the Slitheen family anthem by pointing it at different things. Only took her an hour.

That had been a good door. But it was just as likely she’d come across a former companion's bedroom, still messy like they could walk back in at any moment, like they hadn't even left yet. She’d find the last book they’d been reading, or a jacket they left. Entire lifetimes collected in the things that were left behind.

Some nights she didn’t feel like gambling for an improvement in her mood when the stakes were a severe deterioration of it, so she didn’t open any doors and just sat and tinkered with the console, singing along to music from six different galaxies and twelve different centuries.

Not tonight though. Tonight felt, precarious. Like an elephant somehow got stuck in a porcelain shop and she was both the elephant and the porcelain. Like one move might break a thousand cups in an avalanche of shattering ceramic. So she’d stopped. Moving. And now was sitting on the stairs in the console room. Very still. Very meticulously not thinking about certain things. Do you know how hard it is not to think about things on purpose? It’s like trying not to make that elephant pink. There you go! See? But no, that was still good, that was fine. Pink elephants weren’t– Ah. Okay. Backpedalling, backpedalling.

The Tardis nudged her.

“What?”

A display lit up and the Doctor moved over, carefully, avoiding the memories that were hanging in the air like rain drops. The display showed a map, a location marked on it.

“What’s there?”

 _coronation of the seventh princess, daughter of the seventh queen of the seventh moon of Ozorth_ , the Tardis said.

"That's a lot of sevens."

_it's an Event_

“And will there be some kind of trouble at this coronation of the seventh princess of- what you just said?”

_there will be when we show up_

Despite herself, the Doctor smiled.

“And why would we do that?”

_party! people! fun!_

The Doctor wasn't feeling particularly festive.

 _noise,_ the Tardis added.

The Doctor looked around the silent console room. A bit of noise to scare away the ghosts. Might not be so bad. She looked down at what she was wearing. She’d have to find an appropriate outfit. And she didn’t have a date. Because all her usual ones were–

She turned back to the display. Found her records of River’s time in prison. There must still be a gap somewhere. A moment where she could sneak in and steal one more day with River. It took five minutes of furious calculations before the Doctor had to admit defeat. Yes, there were still a couple of gaps. No, there weren’t any safe ones. She’d already used all of those. But if she– No. It was too risky. Not just risky, it was irresponsible. Selfish. Mess with the ball of timeline spaghetti that River and her relationship already was? Enter a whole new face into that marriage, just because she was feeling a bit lonely?

She turned the display off. Let’s not be stupid. Well, let’s not be _too_ stupid. She could still be a little stupid. Would be, if she knew herself. Did she still have ginger beer in the pantry?

The time rotor groaned into action and the Doctor grabbed hold of the console.

“Oh hey! We’re not going to the coronation! What are you doing?”

_taking you where you need to go_

The Doctor rolled her eyes, but took her hands off the controls. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do.

When they’d landed she checked the display. London? 1898. Oh. She knew where they were. Or had a strong suspicion at least. She slowly opened the Tardis door and stepped out on a splintered chair. Oops.

“Whoever has got it into their thick skull to break into this house, just know that when I'm done with you, you’ll have got what was coming to you, because I’ve got a skillet and a very bad mood and if you’ve woken the missus you’ll have even bigger worries than me and my–”

The Doctor looked up from the broken chair under her feet straight into Jenny’s face. With, as promised, held over her head ready to strike the supposed robber, a skillet. Which she quickly lowered when she realised what she was looking at. Which was a big blue box standing in the middle of her living room. She put the skillet down and got down to business.

“Alright, regenerated again, did he? Fine, fine, come to us for help, like we don't have anything better to do, but just so you know we’ve had a very busy week and the spare bedroom is–” the briefest of pauses as Jenny searched for the most diplomatic words “–not available. So he’s gonna have to make do on the couch and be grateful for it.”

The Doctor pressed her lips together, trying not to smile. She had a feeling she might get bonked over the head with a skillet if she did.

“Yes, he regenerated, but don’t worry–” she flapped her coat in demonstration, “– it was a while ago. No couch will be needed. Although I am indeed very grateful. Thank you.”

Jenny blanked for a moment before realisation sank in. “Doctor?”

“Jenny!”

Jenny looked like she was still trying to wrap her mind around it. “Youre a woman?”

“Well,” the Doctor hedged.

“Debatable,” came a stern voice from the shadowed doorway.

The Doctor and Jenny both startled and turned to Vastra, who stepped into the living room tying a robe around herself.

“That was my favourite chair, Doctor.”

The Doctor held her hands up in surrender. “I’ll replace it!”

Vastra nodded before turning to Jenny. “Jenny dear, stop staring, you’ve seen this before.”

“Right, yes, of course.” Jenny dragged her eyes away from the Doctor. “Sorry,” she added to the Doctor, who shook her head like ‘don’t worry about it’. “I just didn’t think– Well–”

“It’s just a different face,” Vastra said. “It’s the same monkey underneath.”

The Doctor’s mouth fell open in offense. “I’m not a monkey!”

“You’re not an ape,” Vastra corrected. “You’re definitely a monkey.”

The Doctor snorted and allowed it.

“No Clara?” Vastra asked.

Oh great, let’s dig open another grief well! Why not, it was the night for it. Room enough in this new tiny body that came into the world already filled to the brim with grief. Room enough. She’ll just hold it all, won’t she? Room enough. The Doctor turned away from Vastra and Jenny and started examining the books on the bookshelf with great feigned interest.

“No Clara. She’s– She’s gone.”

“Gone?” Vastra sounded perturbed. As she should be. Clara wouldn’t leave of her own accord. Clara wouldn’t leave unless forced. Or dead.

The Doctor swallowed and forced her voice light. “Gone!” She picked a book of the shelf.

“What happened?” Vastra asked, voice softening, sitting down in her, presumably, second favourite chair.

“That’s not what I came here to talk about!” the Doctor snapped, turning around and accidentally smacking the book in her hand against the shelf.

Jenny jumped. “Oi! Watch yourself, you’ll wake someone!”

“You’ll wake Strax,” Vastra added, shooting the Doctor a pointed look. It was an effective warning. She definitely didn’t want to deal with potato face right now. The Doctor lowered the hand with the book in it, and her voice when she mumbled, “Sorry.”

“Out with it then, what did you come here to talk about?” Vastra asked.

“Oh, nothing, just–” the Doctor turned around to carefully place the book back on the shelf, “came to check in on some old friends. Been a while.”

“It certainly has.”

The Doctor looked around at the tone in Vastra’s voice. “How long?”

“I think that’s what I should be asking you, dear.”

The Doctor sighed and sank down on the small couch.

Vastra turned to Jenny. “I know it’s late darling, but would you make us some tea?”

The Doctor shot Vastra an inquisitive look as Jenny left. “You know she’s not actually your maid right?”

“I think you’ll find Jenny and I know the nature and intricacies of our relationship better than you do, Doctor, and I’ll thank you to know your place. Which is not in it.”

The Doctor widened her eyes and nodded. “Of course. I apologise.”

“Now, last time we saw you, you just got a new face.”

“Did that again.” The Doctor smiled but it was tired.

“So, knowing what I know about Time Lord life spans. And knowing what I know about you. I think I can assume a century or two have passed for you?”

“About a century, yes. Probably. Who knows."

“Have you been alone for a long time?”

“I’m not alone!”

“You’re not?”

“I’ve got friends! They’re asleep in the Tardis right now.”

“Lucky them.”

The Doctor felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She’d just barged in here without any consideration for the friends whose lives she was dropping into, disrupting. Vastra did look tired. The Doctor winced a little.

“Busy week, Jenny said?”

“Monster of a case.”

The Doctor stood up. “I’ll leave then, let you sleep.”

“Sit down.”

The Doctor did. The couch creaked. Jenny came in with tea and poured. When she’d finished and sat down, Vastra said, “Now tell us why you’re here.”

“I just came to see how you were doing! But all is well, I see, so–”

“Doctor.”

The Doctor picked up her cup and mumbled into her tea, “I was sad.”

“I’m sorry?” Jenny asked.

“I was sad and lonely,” the Doctor mumbled faster.

“Would you speak up?” Vastra sounded exasperated, which was fair, given the hour. And the chair beneath the Tardis.

“I was sad and lonely!” the Doctor said, looking Vastra in the eye finally. Vastra smiled slowly.

“Well then. Time for a game?”

They played Ludo until the Doctor managed to steer the conversation to the case Jenny and Vastra were working on, which was before they’d even finished their first cup of tea. Then she got up and found the crime board. And then it was only a matter of time before she was dragging Jenny and Vastra on a chase through the London night until the sun came up.

“I don’t know whether to thank you or curse you,” Vastra panted as they locked the larder door behind the man they'd just thrown into it and leaned against it heavily.

“Thank me,” the Doctor breathed. “Solved your case. Now you can take a day off.” She took a look at the disheveled and exhausted pair next to her. “Or a week, you know, whatever.”

Vastra rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”

Jenny retreated upstairs soon after to collapse on a bed. Vastra stayed downstairs for a moment longer to wave the Doctor goodbye.

“Will we ever get to meet these new friends of yours?” Vastra asked, trying to look past the Doctor into the Tardis as if she would be able to see them sitting there.

The Doctor nodded. “You know how to reach me. If you ever get stuck on a case again, let me know, we’ll figure it out for you.”

Vastra gently smacked her on the head.

“Ow!”

“You really are a monkey. Taking the credit. We did all the hard work! You just came in at the end for the fun part.”

“Yes I did.” She looked Vastra in the eyes and hoped it would communicate the amount of gratitude she felt for everything Vastra and Jenny – alright, _and_ Strax – had ever done for her. “Thank you.”

Vastra smiled. “Anything for a friend. Now, come see us again, preferably before another century has passed. Don’t be a stranger!”

“Can’t help it,” the Doctor grinned, slowly closing the Tardis door on Vastra. “It’s my nature!”

The door clicked shut and the Doctor sighed. The lights in the console room lit up orange. Ready for another day.

**Author's Note:**

> do you ever start writing a story in your head at night while brushing your teeth and then finish it the next morning the moment you wake up?  
> yeah, it's nice  
> absolutely no idea where this even came from, but honestly, the doctor deserved it


End file.
